Twins for the Mafia Heir (The Warwicks #3)

4. Emma

Chapter 4

Emma

F rom the moment I laid eyes on Fantasia, I knew she was dangerous. Not because she has some hidden martial skill or is dressed in body armor. Actually, I’m pretty sure I could overpower her despite the several inches she has on me. She’s dressed in a slinky, blood red evening gown, but her feet are bare despite the chill and her long black hair is pulled back into a messy bun that belies her status. And there’s a deadness in her heavy-lidded eyes that makes me certain she’ll go to any lengths to get what she wants.

Including killing me because she’s not happy that I’m here.

I’m almost grateful to have Achilles between us, but that might not mean much if the head of his family orders me to die.

“This is Raleigh Warwick,” Achilles says tightly. “She’s Thomas’s younger sister, and she volunteered to be our hostage in exchange for her brother’s signature-”

Fantasia’s eyes flash. “ This is Thomas’s sister? She’s microscopic! Why the fuck would he bother making a tithe to get her back? I would have drowned her in the river the moment I realized she was a runt.”

I take a step backward, too appalled to hide it. Even Achilles stiffens at the barbaric words.

“Not all of us view our family members as tools that are disposable if they can’t be put to work,” he says with disgust.

Fantasia shoots him a savage look. “You call this an achievement?” she demands. “I told you to make them pay in blood . Was a single shot even fired?”

“It was,” I blurt out, “and then I begged him for mercy. And you’re lucky I did, because if I’d let your man blow any more holes in Thomas’s closest advisors, he’d never negotiate with you for anything.”

Achilles whirls on me, and I remember my promise, instantly broken. Fantasia’s mouth falls open, but her shock instantly melts into rage. Before I can brace myself for the blow, her palm cracks across my face.

“Don’t speak about things you don’t understand, pixie!” she spits. “You’re not worth your brother’s signature.” She turns on Achilles. “And you- how could you think this was acceptable to me?!”

“I’d love to hear what you would have suggested,” Achilles says tightly. “You sent me in there alone and Thomas wasn’t even there. If you wanted me to fight the entire estate just to get him to appear, you’d be down your most useful tool right now with no hostage either.”

There’s naked bitterness in his voice, and I’m surprised at how willing he is to show it to the head of his family. The familiarity between these two is different than the kind I see with Iris and Thomas. Those two share an unbreakable friendship with each other thanks to years of aligned goals and mutual support.

Here though… There’s doubt and mistrust festering between Achilles and Fantasia that they can’t even disguise. I wonder what caused it, and if I can use it against them.

Fantasia shakes her head, disgusted. “I don’t want your excuses, Achilles. First Piers, now this?!” Achilles shakes his head back at her, clearly angered by the mention of the name, but Fantasia turns her back on him. She’s not done ranting yet.

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re intentionally sabotaging me, Achilles. Oh you’ll do the small tasks for me. You’ll kill the odd annoying double crosser and do inspections and collect local tithes without complaint. But when I really need you to do something- when the future of the family depends on you- You fall short! You didn’t actually want Piers dead, and you didn’t actually care about getting Thomas’s signature. Tell me the truth, Achilles!”

She’s even more deranged than I thought. Is she seriously daring her closest man to betray her? And is this pure paranoia or founded in reality? Who is this Piers she’s talking about? My head is spinning with all the information she’s throwing at me, but at the same time I’m almost too scared to appreciate it.

This woman is not well, and my life is in her hands. Should I try running now while she and Achilles are arguing? I can’t imagine I’ll get far in a house that’s unfamiliar, much less a city and country that I’ve never been in. I’m usually good with directions, but today isn’t one of my best days.

“Shall I put her back where I found her?” Achilles demands. His exasperation and failure to rise to her bait tells me he’s been putting up with these ravings for a while.

“And have you be gone for another three days?!” Fantasia shrieks, whirling back around. “Just kill her, Achilles! I’m sick of this- just get rid of her! Get her out of my sight!”

Fuck, I’m out of time. I take a step back toward the door, but Achilles is already shaking his head.

“We do that and you’ll never see a dime of Thomas’s money, Fantasia- think for two seconds about this!” he snaps.

“I don’t want to think!” Fantasia wails, like a child who’s been told it’s time for bed. “All this noise- it’s giving me a headache! I can’t take this anymore Achilles, I really can’t.”

Her voice is trembling- is she about to break down in tears? I take another step back toward the door. If she’s going to fling herself down on the ground and start crying, I’ll take that as my chance to get out of here, damn my odds of actually escaping to hell.

Forget digging up intel. I made it to London. I bought Raleigh and Thomas some time. My mission was a success, as poorly planned as it was. At the first chance, I need to leave.

“Fantasia-” Achilles heaves a sigh. Unfortunately, he looks back at me, and I can’t take another step toward escape. His eyes narrow, perhaps seeing right through me. “Let me get Raleigh in a room for the night and then we can talk more.”

His voice is softened, if no less exasperated. He’s used to bringing her down from these fits. Maybe it’s purely due to his sympathy for her that she gets away with treating him so badly. Despite everything, I can relate- before I realized the only thing that calmed my father down was hitting me, I often tried to soothe his drunken temper, even if I hate to admit it.

“A room - I don’t want her to stay here, Achilles!” Fantasia squawks, raising her head to glare right at me.

She blinks, and then… her expression seems to clear.

My body feels like it’s turned to ice. Whatever idea she’s just had, it could be even worse than the straight up execution she was begging for a moment ago.

Fantasia’s gaze flicks between Achilles and I. Then she does the most terrifying thing imaginable.

Her lips curl into a smile.

“There might still be a way for us to turn this botchery around,” she says. “Thomas doesn’t want to recognize us as family. So let’s make it impossible to deny. If his very own sister were to marry my brother, then the divide between our families would be legally bridged. Not only would Thomas owe us tithe as an international branch of the family, but we would be entitled to whatever allowance Raleigh gains from-”

“What- What the hell are you saying?” Achilles chokes out.

Fantasia rolls her eyes. “Don’t be so precious, Achilles. She might be short and shapeless, but she’s not hideous.”

“You’re not suggesting I marry her!”

I feel like it’s taking me several seconds to comprehend every word being said. Marriage? Brother?

Wait, so Achilles and Fantasia are siblings?! They look nothing alike, but it would explain the familiar savagery between them at least.

Wait, no, that’s hardly important right now. Did Fantasia just suggest Achilles and I- that we-

But if Raleigh Warwick and Fantasia Warwick are cousins, and Achilles and Fantasia are siblings- is she seriously suggesting Raleigh marry her first cousin?

Achilles’s mind seems to be working at the same speed as mine, because he blurts, “Cousins marrying hasn’t been in vogue since World War 1, even in our tax bracket. I am not revitalizing the tradition.”

To my horror, Fantasia completely shrugs that off. “It’s lucky for us that you’re not a real Warwick then, isn’t it?”

“Fantasia-”

“ Enough , Achilles! I’m trying to fix a mess you made, as usual-”

“None of this is bloody usual-”

Their voices are rising, and my thoughts are spinning too fast to be any good. This is totally beyond me now. I’m not committing to this bit so hard that I have to marry a man who kidnapped me, my enemy, at the demand of his crazy sister. I’m half tempted to turn and run, just run, but I crush down my panic.

Crossing Fantasia would not be wise. Achilles seems to get away with it purely because they share blood, but me? She was suggesting I be off-ed like a child might throw away a toy they’re sick of playing with. Besides, it’s not like there’s a priest standing in this room right now. I can agree to whatever she wants so long as it buys me time to escape. That’s what I should do, even if what’s being suggested is completely absurd.

What would the real Raleigh do? Well, she might just tell Fantasia to go to hell and fuck the consequences, but Raleigh has people around her supporting her.

I’m here alone, and I’ve got only me at the end of the day. That’s how it’s always been, even when I was a kid. I have to play this as safe as possible.

I step forward, coming up beside Achilles. His fists are clenched so hard the knuckles are white. Unhelpfully, I remember how that grip felt on my hips when I straddled his lap.

“I accept your proposal,” I tell Fantasia, loud and clear. “If you want me to marry Achilles, then… I will.”